Hold Me Together
by Shadowy Assassin
Summary: A Cresswell one-shot. Alternate ending to Winter.


HOLD ME TOGETHER

* * *

 _This is a specific series of events in_ Winter _twisted to create a different story_ _. Almost like an alternate ending to_ Winter.

* * *

Cress shivered.

She was crouched behind the shrubbery that lined the brick wall behind her, her blue eyes wide as she watched the dark-skinned beast of a man who called himself Thaumaturge Aimery Park ram his hulking body into Carswell Thorne's.

She wanted to scream out loud every time Thorne took a fist to his face, every time he stumbled, every time he groaned in pain for any reason.

Fortunately, it didn't seem as though Aimery was using too much glamour on Thorne - but there was bound to be a catch sooner or later, if he was willing to let the brawl play out on its own. If he glamoured Thorne, if he tried to make Thorne kill himself... there would be no competition. It would be over with a single thought from Aimery.

And he knew it, too. It was frightening to see Aimery smirk as he taunted Thorne, using a single shred of glamour every now and then to keep Thorne's hands at his sides, while he landed in a painful blow to his face - a blow that made Cress want to cry out in fear.

But Aimery was just taunting him; he never bothered maintaining the glamour for long. Cress's shoulders shook in a silent sob as she watched fear light in Thorne's expression every time he was glamoured in the slightest. He was falling for it, feeling exactly how Aimery wanted him to feel.

Aimery was playing. It was all a game to him, a game that he would win no matter what move Thorne made.

The twisted expression on Aimery's face haunted Cress, and she froze as Thorne tried to hold his own. Not a single breath spilled too soon, as Cress hugged her knees against her chest as she watched, not daring to blink for fear.

Thorne had told her to stay hidden, that he could take care of this. He wanted to protect her... even though he had told her that he couldn't care for her, not in _that_ way.

She had cried the night when he had told her, cried until she had no tears left behind her eyes. He hadn't even told her _why_ they couldn't be together... had just said that she should find someone better for her, someone more deserving of her.

But _she_ still cared for _him_ \- in the slightest. Though she had told herself that she was _not_ going to fall for him again.

And she still couldn't bear seeing him battered under Aimery's claws and not be able to do anything about it.

Cress's heart stopped as Thorne managed to land a blow to one side of Aimery's face, and she dared to swallow abruptly as the thaumaturge howled in pain, clutching the purple bruise blossoming on his too-well-defined cheekbone.

Thorne grinned. _Don't say it, don't make a smart remark, please don't say it..._ "Gotcha."

Cress buried her face in her hands, but couldn't resist spreading her fingers to peer through at Thorne as Aimery's expression twisted into something colder, something darker, something even more hateful, if that were possible.

Aimery moved quickly, _too_ quickly for Cress to keep up with what he was doing before he did it. All she managed to catch was a glint of silver metal before Aimery folded his hands complacently, like a small child finally getting what he wanted.

Cress cupped her shaking hands over her mouth, willing herself to hold back her scream, as Thorne dropped like a stone, writhing in agony as he bled from a wound she couldn't see. It was deep... _too_ deep for him to maintain his strength for much longer, Cress realized.

Cress shut her eyes briefly, willing it all to be a dream. But when she opened her eyes again, Thorne was still sprawled on the ground.

And still moaning and struggling. Cress found her finger brushing against the small dagger Thorne had given her, but now it lay uselessly on the ground beside her. _Take it,_ he had said, his lips twitching in that charming half-smile. _I want you to survive this battle._

But he hadn't said anything about _himself._ He had wanted _her_ to stay alive... but he had gone up against Aimery with no intention of doing so himself.

Cress felt her eyes sting from the cold - or was it her fear? - as a single tear slid down her cheek. She didn't brush it away. If she had, then more tears would follow the first... and she had to stay strong. If not for herself, then for _Thorne._

Her fingers ran through her too-short hair, and she found it unsatisfying, not as stress-relieving as it had been when she had been on the satellite. Her heart clenched as Thorne tried to find a hold somewhere on the ground, something that would help him get through this. Aimery shook his head slowly, prowling closer to Thorne's prostrate body as Cress resisted the urge to scream.

He wasn't in pain, anymore, Cress realized, as she peered through the bushes. The blood was drying, and no more was pouring out. It seemed to have come from somewhere on his stomach, but as far as she could see, the wound was clotting - probably shallow, but inflicted in an area that would cause brief pain.

Enough to get Thorne on the ground.

Cress froze as she realized that Thorne was struggling to stand again, his blonde hair swept waywardly over his eyes. She could see a major bruise beside one eye, and plenty of cuts and bruises, but nothing more besides that.

"That won't do at all." Aimery's voice was dull and cold, utterly lifeless. A small part of Cress wondered what had happened to make him as such... but she shook the thought away. He reached out a hand toward Thorne, and the latter dropped again, his eyes blank and unfamiliar.

Aimery had glamoured him. Again.

The sound of Thorne's knees hitting the ground, followed by the rest of his body, was the most painful thing Cress had ever heard.

Her next breaths came too slowly, if they were there at all. Thorne was frozen lifeless, unnaturally still, save for his chest rising and falling slowly. He was alive - that much Cress could see. But she could tell, from the blank look in his startlingly blue eyes, that Aimery hadn't lifted the glamour.

Aimery crouched beside him, not lifting his glamour in the slightest as he gazed with frightening calm at Thorne's limp, prostrate body.

"I hear you like being called _Captain Thorne,_ isn't that right?" Cress's stomach clenched, not daring to breathe. That was _her_ name for him, and it always had been. He was _mocking_ Thorne, and for some reason, though she had sworn to herself not to bother herself by falling in love with Thorne ever again... it bothered her. "Well, I'll humor you, in these last few moments.

"The great Captain finally meets his end," Aimery continued. "My, my, what an interesting tale. I think it should have a bit of drama, don't you think? A suicide sounds nice, doesn't it? Perhaps a knife wound... or no, even better, choking himself to death."

Aimery blinked, and Cress let out the slightest whimper - too quiet to be audible - as Thorne's hands wrapped around his own throat.

She wanted to scream, to cry out, to fall at Aimery's knees and beg for Thorne's life. She didn't love him, or so she had told herself... but she somehow still cared for him. Slightly. Or maybe a little more than that... she just wanted him to be _alive,_ no matter what the cost.

Aimery smiled slowly, lips twisting in an unrecognizably cruel gesture, even for someone like him. Another two tears slipped out from the depths of Cress's eyes as she saw Thorne's hands visibly tighten, squeezing the life out of himself ever-so-torturously.

The knife somehow wound up in her hand.

Her feet somehow led her to rise up behind Aimery.

She couldn't be glamoured. She was a _shell._ So... what was taking such brutal control of her?

Cress barely noticed the tears flooding down her face as she let out a soft cry. Aimery whipped around, knife in hand, but Cress was faster. Her vision was blurred from tears, but she could see well enough to send her knife upward in a movement that felt new and awkward in her hands.

Aimery collapsed, blood pumping from his throat as Cress ripped the knife out and threw it to the ground beside her. Stars, what had she _done?_

She could see it all playing again and again in her mind: her hand surging upward, the knife making contact and tearing open a bloody gash in his throat, his body falling backward. This was never supposed to happen. She was supposed to use the knife to _defend herself._

Cress screamed as Aimery let out a gurgling cry that was cut short. There was blood, so much blood, pouring down from the open wound in his throat, as Aimery pressed his dark hands to the wound and coughed for breath.

His body convulsed once, as he struggled to breathe in one last time.

And then he was gone.

Cress screamed. And screamed again. And again. She dropped to her knees in the pool of blood at Aimery's side, crying out as if the knife had wound up in her throat instead of his. Her hands were stained with blood... stars, it would never wash off.

She was choking, coughing, but she hardly noticed as her bloody hands wrapped around the hilt of the knife again. It would just be once more strike, one more sweep of the wrist... but this time, it would be home in her own throat.

The knife felt different this time, more promising, like a tether to freedom.

But then a strong hand was guiding the knife away from her throat, despite her resistance, and tossed it to the ground after prying it from her lifeless grasp. The matching hand gently turned her head to the side and tilted it upwards just the slightest bit.

Cress's breath caught as she saw Thorne staring at her as if she had sprouted another head.

She looked away, tears spilling from her eyes. "Stars I... I just _killed_ him."

Thorne reached out gently and took her hand, but Cress jerked away. There was still Aimery's still-bleeding body beside her, and a new bout of tears sprang up every time she gazed at the wound in his throat. The wound _she_ had given him.

"I killed him." Cress buried her face in her hands. "I killed him."

"You saved my life," Thorne pointed out, and this time, Cress let him hold her against him. She still shook as she sobbed, staring blankly at the dead thaumaturge's body. Cress wiped her eyes. She had _killed_ him, taken his life so that he would never see the sunrise again.

She had also saved Thorne. But had she really _had_ to kill for this? Was Thorne really worth... killing for?

Cress had long ago sworn that she would never, ever fall in love with Thorne, again. But now... it was hard, when he was staring into the depths of her blue eyes with his own, the intensity radiating off of him as he gazed at her.

Cress couldn't bring herself to look away.

"Thank you, Cress." And he really seemed to mean it, not in that joking way in which he addressed everyone on the Rampion. Thorne tilted her chin back up so that she was looking straight into the depths of his blue eyes. Stars, it was _hard_ to not fall for him and swoon, then and there.

But she had _killed_ for him. Killed, as in taken life. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Aimery's spirit would haunt her, for eternity.

His thumb brushed gently against her cheek, and Cress stared up at him, surprise flaring slightly in her heart, as his other hand wrapped gently around her waist as she sat before him. She stiffened slightly, unsure what to do.

She _didn't_ love Thorne. Or... she _couldn't._ She couldn't bear to have him turn away from her ever again, her heart shattered again - if she fell for him.

But stars, it was impossible _not_ to love him.

"Cress..." Thorne's voice was soft, though not weak, and longing - not a question, not a call... but a prayer, like an answer to all problems. He said her name again, and Cress marveled at the way her name flowed from his lips, despite the body lying beside her.

Cress gasped as he wrapped both arms around her and pressed his lips to hers.

She froze entirely, still somehow craving the way her body melded against his perfectly, and his lips fit naturally onto hers. Then slowly, ever-so-slowly, Cress moved an inch closer to Thorne, her body warm in his arms despite the cold wind blowing around them.

Thorne coughed abruptly, and pulled away so quickly that Cress didn't realize that his lips had left hers until moments later. She stared up at him, confusion sparking in her eyes. Thorne cleared his throat rather roughly, though his gaze didn't leave her lips. He blinked rapidly. "I'm sorry; I shouldn't have-"

His words were cut off as Cress leaned up and kissed him again.

Stronger, more confidently than before. Thorne grinned onto her lips and pulled her even tighter against him, his hands running through the blonde waves that reached down just past her shoulders. Cress slid her arms around Thorne's neck, closing her eyes briefly.

It had always been a dream, to kiss Carswell Thorne - _really_ kiss him.

Dreams came true, it seemed.

"Stars..." Thorne mumbled onto her lips, and Cress looked up, her face blossoming pink. "I think I'm in love with you." It was the same thing Cress had said, the first time, when they had been in the desert together. _I think I'm in love with you._

Maybe she could try again, and let herself love Thorne, as she had always wanted.

Cress blinked as she realized that all this time... she had never _truly_ stopped loving him.

"You hold me together whenever I fall apart," Cress whispered, as Thorne stroked her cheek. She breathed in, then pulled her lips away from his, gently, as she looked up to meet Thorne's eyes with her own, the intensity mirrored equally. "So... I think I'm in love with you, too."


End file.
